The 5 Stages of Grief

Continued on from yesterday...

It's funny how your mind operates under stress.

There I was sitting in my car, imploding with grief. Instead of calling my husband (then boyfriend) or Mum for consolation, all I kept thinking was "Who can help me right now?"

My first thought was Kylie.

Not only is Kylie my gorgeous dear friend, confidante and soul-sister, she's also a nurse. Don't nurses know everything 'medical'?

Poor Kylie - I can't imagine what my call would've been like for her that day.

As soon as I heard her voice I began sobbing uncontrollably. I blurted out my diagnosis, my despair climaxing when I was hit with the most disturbing thought - that I may have lost all possibility of having children of my own.

Horrible.

I have images of Kylie skipping along merrily wearing her infectious smile only to have her long distance friend call and dump an emotional bomb on her. If you're reading this Special K, I'm sorry for the distress it must have caused you. I hope that was counteracted by the other shock news phone call three years later - you remember? - the one when I told you I'd won $15,000, had booked flights and you had 1 hour to get to the airport.

Sweet Kylie did her best to console me, but the only consolation I sought was for the clinic to phone back with news that I'd been given the wrong results. They didn't.

I can't remember much after that - only hours of crying, stinging eyes and an ache in my chest. It was excruciating.

At that point, I was in stage one of the Kübler-Ross five stages of grief

1. Denial
   "This is not possible, it can't be happening, they've made a mistake. There must be other answers". This led to frantic searching for solutions, seeking all kinds of alternative therapies; traditional Chinese medicine, acupuncture, homeopathy, naturopathy, hypnotherapy, Bach flower essences, Reiki, applied kinesiology, NET, CBT, yoga therapy, Ayurvedic medicine, psychic healing, aromatherapy, colon hydrotherapy, crystal healing, dietary healing therapy and meditation - most of which brought back menstruation, but nothing ever permanent or pregnant.
   
   
2. Anger
   "This is not fair, why me? There a so many people 'less healthy' or 'less deserving' than me - people who smoke, take drugs, are alcoholics. How can they get pregnant and become parents so easily? This is bull$hit!!!" I was completely angry and utterly furious with God, the universe, mother nature and anything else that I could put a label on. I questioned my faith in me, my beliefs, everything. I was bitter and unforgiving. I became intolerable of people asking me "When are you going to have kids?" - I either wanted to swear at them or hit them in the mouth with my shoe. I didn't x 2.
   
   
3. Bargaining
   I engaged in conversations with God "I'll pray every day, I'll fast, I'll eat well, exercise, do yoga, meditate, take my medicine, I'll stop drinking caffeine and wine, no more wheat, no more dairy, no more sugar, or salt, no more gluten, I'll only eat low GI foods, I'll juice every day, I'll even do a coffee enema every day - I WILL DO IT ALL (and I've done it all) if you could just please, please, PLEEEEEEAAAASE let my body work so I can have a baby!"
   
   
4. Depression
   Deep, dark and scary. To me this was a loss of lives, the lives of my beautiful yet-to-be-born children. The sons and daughters I had dreamed of, imagined and anticipated. I cried myself to sleep every night. I collapsed in the shower, sobbing on the ground till the water ran cold. I felt pain in my heart and sickness in my stomach every time I heard news of someone becoming pregnant. I could not look at pregnant bellies. I could not stand hearing women complain about being pregnant (I want to punch them in the nose - seriously). I could not hold babies without tears welling in my eyes and my lips quivering. I was in constant pain. It felt like an elephant sitting on my chest. I was aching all the time. I felt I was going insane. I was once so disturbed by my upset that I wished someone I disapproved of would miscarry - how horrible, judgmental and inhumane is that? (thankfully that wish was not granted).
   
   
5. Acceptance
   One day I decide I cannot go on living my life in chronic anguish and yearning. I choose to be okay. I am okay. I became an aunt. I realised I can still have children in my life, it's just going to be different to what I first imagined. I had a dream that dictated words for a manuscript. It was a blueprint for a children's book. I spent nine months and four days to create and deliver a book that (without my knowing) turned out to be the physical manifestation of all my maternal love for my unborn babies. Every time I hear news of a child loving my book I feel a connection. My maternal flame is lit. I feel I have made a difference. I am happy. I am a mother.

September marks 10 years since that fateful day. A decade.

This has been the most difficult thing for me to write and the most freeing. I am sobbing once more. I will sign off for now.

Until tomorrow, be brave and take all five steps when grieving. The fifth one is the best.

Grace xx

PS. At the time of my diagnosis I was told I had gone through premature menopause. The condition is now more commonly known as Premature Ovarian Failure (POF), though it is in transition to being known as Primary Ovarian Insufficiency (POI). It can affect women as young as 16. While many alternative modalities have theories about how this condition occurs, western orthodox medicine state that there are no known causes.

PPS. For avid followers of Weigh-In Wednesday, click here to see video